Miserable
by CherriFlower
Summary: Suddenly, Rick stood up and in one large, swift step he was towering over the boy. "Then why do you exist, Morty?" he snarled with a low, gravely voice. Morty noticed his breath smelled of stale liquor and cigarettes. "I don't know, but it's not for you," he said defiantly. - In which Morty calls Rick out and he falls helpless at his feet.


With only the warning of a low warbled sound, the green portal appeared in the garage. Rick calmly walked through, effortless after decades of experience. Morty, however, was still getting accustomed to all the new experiences his grandpa had introduced to him, one of which being walking through portals. After almost a year of practice, he could usually walk through without much trouble; but after particularly stressful adventures, he'd find himself stumbling through the portals like a newborn fawn. The portal closed with a "whoosh" as Morty floundered through it, arms flailing as he attempted to catch his balance. Rick rolled his eyes at his grandson as he took a large swig from his flask he keeps on him at all times.

"You know, Morty, if you would, would just listen to me once in a uuuuurp-while, you wouldn't be on the floor right now, and I wouldn't have to scrap this project," Rick said as he sat down at his desk with a huff. He cleared some space haphazardly with his arm, knocking off a few mechanical pieces and a small vial of liquid which shattered as it hit the ground. He paid no mind to the mess he had just created on the floor and instead, he retrieved some assorted items from his desk drawers and began tinkering with them adeptly with skilled, calloused hands.

Morty pushed himself up off the floor with a wince and immediately took a defensive stance behind his working grandfather. "Jeez, Rick. You know, it's not, it's not always my fault when stuff goes wrong. I-I-I, I rely on you out there. You're the scientist." He gestured largely towards Rick as his anger grew. "You're the one who knows about all this shit, but somehow when things go wrong, I'm the one who, who ends up getting blamed! And I'm tired of it, R-rick!" He trembled slightly and held on tight to the hem of his shirt, anxious about confronting his grandpa.

Rick tensed up at his grandson's words but continued his work. He was used to Morty putting up a fuss after a mission gone awry, but it was usually no more than a few comments muttered under his breath. The directness of his complaints caught Rick off guard, but he was able to brush it off with a wave of his hand. "So what do you want me to do about it Morty, huh?"

"Take some responsibility for once in your life," he yelled.

Rick scoffed, "what do you know about taking responsibility? Never mind, I already know the answer to that. Nothing!" His eyes never left his work, but his movements were stiff with frustration. This disaster of a trip had him on edge and Morty's whining irritated him more than it usually would. "You've never been responsible for anything in your life, so don't, don't go lecturing me about how I live mine, Morty."

"It's not just your life on the, on the line out there, Rick! Your irresponsibility has almost killed me more times than I can count," Morty's voice wasn't as harsh as earlier, but his resolve was stronger.

Rick sighed, rubbing his temples, and turned around to face Morty. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, taking a second to calm himself. "Look, will you just get out of here? I got a lot of work to do; now that you ruined my chances to finish my drepule convertor. Which, by the way, you did, and that's not up for debate," he said with a glare.

Morty returned his grandpa's glare, anxious but determined. "Fine, Rick. I'll leave. But, but don't expect me to come back. No more adventures." Rick tried to act unaffected, like those words didn't scare him, but his eyes betrayed him and Morty knew he had found his leverage. "Yeah, that-that's right. Until you can learn to accept responsibility for your actions, I won't be there for you to blame everything on."

Rick's glare softened, but remained. "Yeah, okay, Morty. I toootally, uuuurp, believe that."

As always, Rick's condescending tone made Morty feel about two feet tall. Any other day, it probably would have made him back down, but today it riled him up. "Well believe it, a-asshole!" he said with indignation. "I don't need this, Rick! You're the one who needs me. You need me for protection, f-f-for all this bullshit you call science! Without me, you could die out there. But without you, you know, I could finally get some sleep and maybe even get better grades!"

For a moment, there was silence. Rick was uneasy, but maintained an air of confidence; or at least, he sure hoped he did. At the same time Morty was having a realization. He began to understand something his parents had been telling him for some time now but that his idolization of his grandpa made him deny. Looking at the ground, he spoke softly, hardly above a whisper. "I could...I could have a normal life." His gaze rose to meet Rick's as he said, "you're holding me back, Rick."

"Come on, Morty. You don't really believe that uuurp-crap. That's just your parents talking," Rick said cautiously as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Yes, I do. Th-this probably comes as a big surprise to you, but you can't tell me what to think all the time." Morty ran his hands through his coarse hair and groaned with frustration. "I'm my own person, Rick. I'm not just, just another Morty, dammit. I don't exist to serve you, Rick."

Suddenly, Rick stood up and in one large, swift step he was towering over the boy. "Then why do you exist, Morty?" he snarled with a low, gravely voice. Morty noticed his breath smelled of stale liquor and cigarettes.

"I don't know, but it's not for you," he said defiantly. With that he turned away from Rick and began a determined, yet slightly somber, walk toward the door leading to the house.

Rick, whose defenses had dropped the moment Morty turned his back to him, reached out for the child. "Morty..." he called out weakly, his voice breaking. Morty faltered, hand on the doorknob, but didn't respond.

"Please don't go."

With every intention to tell Rick off, Morty took a deep breath and turned to face his grandfather. The sight of Rick's head hung below worn and defeated shoulders caught him entirely off guard and left him in awe. He had never seen the man show any sign of humility, especially not towards him. "R-rick...?" he asked hesitantly.

"What more do you want from me, Morty?" he asked, voice dripping with self-loathing.

Morty couldn't help but find Rick's pathetic tone, so starkly different from his usual bitter gruffness, unsettling. All his rage from just moments ago had melted away, and in its place he felt pity for his grandfather. Despite that, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to have his voice truly heard. He took a couple of careful steps towards Rick, finding himself still much smaller than the older man, even with him hunched over so much. After a few moments of hesitation to gather the proper courage, Morty calmly reached up and gingerly touched Rick's cheek. For the first time since asking him to stay, Rick looked up from the ground and his watery eyes met Morty's. His face was contorted with vulnerability, mouth open as if he had something important to say, but no words came; all he could do was wait for Morty to say something, anything. But he couldn't find the words, so he avoided Rick's gaze.

With a silent sob Rick fell to his knees, unable to bear the weight of his pain any longer. His whole body was slumped in front of the boy, arms laying feebly at his side, and again he faced the cold cement floor. Morty looked down at him in amazement as he pleaded unsteadily, "Morty, I'll do anything for you. Just name it." The silence was deafening until eventually, Morty spoke.

"Rick, all I want is," he paused, nervous that even in this state Rick would make fun of him for being so insecure. "All I want is to know if you actually care about me. Or-or if you just see me as another Morty," his voiced trailed off as he became aware of how needy he sounded.

Rick leaned back slightly, allowing himself to look up at his grandson. "Are you kidding, Morty? Of course I care about you. I didn't think I'd have to-uuurp, fucking spell it out for you." Morty's cheeks turned red and Rick sighed heavily. He spoke slowly, choosing each word with care. "Morty, listen, you are honestly the only person I care about in this entire universe. And sometimes, you're the only reason I don't just off myself right here. I need you, not just for cloaking, but because you genuinely make my life better. And that's something unique to you; no other Morty could ever make me feel like this." He shakily reached up with his arm and tenderly touched Morty's cheek, just as the boy had done to him earlier. "I'm...I'm miserable without you."

Unsure of how to end the interaction, Rick awkwardly took his hand away from Morty's face and grabbed his shoulder instead, using it to pull himself upright with a groan. He wrapped his arms around Morty, pulling him into a tight hug, and softly said "I love you, Morty. Now don't make me say it uurp-again." Morty closed his eyes and inhaled his grandpa's scent, doing everything he could to remember this precious moment.


End file.
